Truce?
by ripcurlgirl101
Summary: We all know how much the guys loved to play practical jokes when they were younger and still do in 'Hell House'. So a 14 yr old Dean and 10 yr old Sam...Well this ends up in one HUGE war!Rated M for a few naughty words by Dean, obviously! PLZ REVIEW!


NB: I am an Aussie Chick so some words are different here like 'colour' not 'color', 'mum' not 'mom' and 'realise' not 'realize'. So some words might look wrong to you but they're not to me. Also the word 'texta' which here means marker or pen. 'Permanent Texta' is just another way of saying 'Permanent Marker'.

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, don't own 'em. Sam and Dean...if I did I would NOT just be writing stories about them :-p

'Truce'

Sam and Dean were once again in one of the endless seedy motel rooms. Dad had given the usual instructions before he left.

"I should be back before tomorrow, behave, look after Sammy, don't let anyone in, Don't leave the motel room and – "

"If anything happens, shoot first, ask questions later. And go to Pastor Jim's if you're not back by tomorrow." John ruffled his son's hair.

"You got it, Dean."

"Dad, I'm fourteen. You've been telling me this for ten years."

"Yes…I'll see-you tomorrow. Hopefully. Bye, Sammy."

"It's SAM and bye Dad." The two boys were left alone.

"Sooooooo…", said Dean.

"Are you bored ALREADY?" Sam asked increduriously.

"Yes. Dude, the TV picks up about four channels, two static-y and the others are CRAP. Got any ideas?"

"Watch TV?"

"And I thought you were the smart one. What the hell are YOU doing?"

"Homework. What's twenty four times twelve?"

"Work it out."

"Got a calculator?"

"Use your fingers."

"Is that your answer to every maths problem there is?"

"Yes. And it's never failed."

"Whatever. " Sam resorted to basically giving up and watched his brother be bored. Dean was flicking through the four channels.

"Nothing, nothing, crap…and crap." He was muttering. "I could be out with Becky now. Nothing, nothing, crap, crap. I wish we were allowed out, for a change. Nothing, nothing, crap, crap."

"My friend gave me a movie to watch?" Sam suggested suddenly. "A gory horror thing."

"Well why didn't you say so before? Sammy, this is the answer to my prayers!" Sam watched his older brother go ecstactic over some movie.

"Are you on drugs, man?"

"What? Not that I know of…Gimme the movie."

"Does this place even have a video thingy-ummy?"

"Yeah, it doesn't work, but I'll make it." Dean replied confidently. He pulled out a few plugs, plugged some in, switched them around, turned it on, got out the sticky-tape, got out some pliers…

"You'll be getting a welder next." Sam said.

"Ha Ha. Yeha. I nearly got it! Yes! It works!" Dean gave a broad grin. He dusted off the ancient-looking movie. "And how old is this?"

"I told you, my friend gave it me for free."

"What IS it?"

"I don't know, it doesn't have a cover or label or anything."

"Okay…" Dean put in the movie. The two brothers were watching it. They both looked totally comical, if anyone were to see them they would have laughes. Both had a look of 'what-the-hell' on their face, their right eyebrow was raised and their mouths were slightly open.

"Dude, you need to get better friends." Dean said after a time.

"I didn't know it would be the original of 'The Titanic'! He said gory…horror" exclaimed Sam defensively.

"A LOVE STORY? I am going to kill you!"

"It - wasn't - my - fault!" Sam gasped as Dean pinned him to the floor and tickled him for all he was worth. Sam squirmed and bucked and laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks. Damn Dean. He is SO DEAD! He thought.

"AAAAAARGH!" Sam yelled and with a huge effort pushed his older brother to the floor. He sprinted to the hallway and out of sight. Dean got to his feet quickly.

"Come on out, you know it's no use hiding from the greatest and powerfullest Dean!" No answer. And Dean knew Sam would've corrected his word 'powerfullest' no matter where he was hiding.

"SAM! SAMMY?" He called while looking all over the motel room. Which wasn't hard – it had three rooms.

"I'LL CALL A TRUCE IF YOU COME OUT! SAMMY!" He yelled. He couldn't have hidden that well. Which meant he was outside. Dean raced to the front door.

"SAMMY – ooof!" Someone had rugby-tackled him to the ground out of nowhere. They pinned him to the ground before he'd gotten over the shock.

"It's SAM and I win." The person hissed.

"Sammy?" Dean questioned. "Ooooooh, you wait till I get my hands on you." Then Dean remembered why they were here.Outside the room.

"DUDE! YOU – LITTLE – IDIOT– " Dean was yelling.

"W – what?" Sam asked, confused.

"We're not allowed outside the motel room! If Dad knew – "

"He doesn't though! And I was only by the door! NOTHING happened."

"It could've. And we have to stay inside. Get in!" Dean pushed Sam inside, still arguing. Whoa! Time flies. Dude, get ready for bed, it's ten already. Go!" Dean said.

"Okay, okay. But I gotcha! I got De-an!" Sam chanted. "I got De-an! I got De-an!" Grrrrrrrr, Dean thought. He is so gone. "Wait till I get you, Sammy. Just Wait!" Sam's smile faultered slightly. Dean wouldn't stop at ANYTHING. But still, he, SAM, was the champion for the moment.

"I got De-an!" he said, giggling, and scrambled into bed. His eyes were sparkling. Dean grinned at him. He'd get Sam. He knew he could Sam at ANY prank war, but he'd let him have his glory for now. FOR NOW…

Dean got out his secret weapon about an hour later. With Sam safely in bed and a whole night set aside for plotting his revenge on his little brother, he got to work. First he needed something. A black permanent Texta (Marker). He grabbed it and grinned to himself. Sam would pay dearly for his moment of fun.

His tiptoed in and carefully drew a monobrow, glasses, a curly mostache and a goatee on his brother. Ten minutes later he went over it. And the next ten minutes and the next and next. It would take AGES to come off! Laughing, Dean climbed into bed, too. In the morning hopefully their Dad would be back and he'd see Sam's new do, too.

"DEAN!" Sam screamed. "WHAT THE FUCK!"

"Language, Sammy. So you see, you shouldn't mess with me! Ha ha ha, that rhymes I'm so smart!" He grinned at Sam. "Nice mono."

"SERIOUSLY I will get you better than EVER BEFORE! JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE!" He yelled and stormed out the room.

John Winchester stepped through the door.

"Hi Dad!" said Dean brightly.

"Hi, Dean." Said John, looking exhausted. I need sleep. I've been awake for about forty-two hours. I'm dead beat. What's Sammy's problem?"

"I – uh…" Dean dissolved into giggles as Sam stepped through the door. Sam pouted.

"DAD! HI! LOOK what Dean did! DO something!" Sam exclaimed.

"Hi, Sam. Nice mos – mostache – " John had started to laugh, too. Sam looked at his two family members laughing. Dean fell off his chair with laughter.

Sam stormed from the room. John wiped a tear of mirth form his eye.

"Oh, Dean, that was good. But I still need sleep and you do know what you've gotten yourself into, right? And I'm not saving you – either of you – this time. Just quit before you both kill eatchother, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Don't disturb me, you can take Sammy to the park for a few hours but BE CAREFUL and take your switchblade. Come right home. AND DON'T KILL EACHOTHER! Okay?"

"Yes, Dad." Dean knocked on the bathroom door.

"Come out now, Sammy, okay? Duuuuude I am so good. We can go to the park while Dad's sleeping, okay? And look, we could call a truce?"

"No. A truce means I can't get my revenge. You're just trying to save your own skin!"

"No way!" said Dean quickly. "I just thought, I'm only offering this once. And you know I won't ask again…"

"The answer's no."

"Okay! You wanna go to the park, then?"

"I'm not leaving this room!" Sam said fiercly.

"What, scared your crush'll see ya? I'm going by myself, then. You're not allowed out on your own and Dad said no killing me while he's sleeping."

"You are the world's biggest JERK!"

"Love you too, bitch. Back soon!" Sam scrubbed at his face continuously making it red and raw. FUCKING BIG BROTHER!

Dean walked to the park. He wouldn't stay long, it would be no fun without Sam to pick on. He made a mental note not to eat, touch, drink, step on or go near ANYTHING Sam gave him. Not to sleep while Sam was awake and to always watch his own back. If Sam was serious…

Sam plotted his revenge. And started to smile…

Dean came back to the motel about an hour later. It was in darkness. Ah, shit, thought Dean. What's he up to? Knowing Sam…it won't be good.

He switched on the light. Sam was grinning, sitting on the floor.

"Hi Big Brother!"

"Glad to see you've lightened up…" Dean said warily. Sam got to his feet. Dean looked in shocked amazement at what Sam had been sitting on.

A bunch of ruined tapes, all their insides spewing onto the floor. The remains of Dean's much-beloved Tape Collection. He gave a strangled cry of rage.

"SAM!" He swung a punch at his brother. Sam dodged easily.

"No killing me while Dad's asleep!" He said cheerfully. "Oh, oops my mistake...Ah, no more Metallica, AC/DC...the lot! Was it... me?" It was Sam's turn to laugh so hard he fell off his chair.

Dean was boiling with rage. Oh, Sam was SO going down!

Sam got in the shower later that night. John got up just before tea (which Dean had prepared and Sam had no intention of eating). But Dean wasn't going to poison his brother or anything. He swiped all Sam's clothes and chucked them one by one out the window into the oak tree. It was tall enough so no one below could get them but so that from up there (three stories high) you also couldn't reach them. Then Dean had taken his underwear and run it up the flagpole downstairs out the front of the motel. After putting fake skid marks on them. And writing SAM on them. He casually sat down to dinner with his dad.

The shower stopped. Sam came out. Dean heard him walk across the bedroom floor. Stop. "DEAN!" He yelled. Dean snorted into his spaghetti and meatballs. Sam came out wearing only a towel and looking furious.

Dean gave his best innocent impression. But as anyone who'd known Dean or still knew him – be aware if ever Dean Winchester ever looked innocent. John looked from son-to-son. Dean eating his tea and looking like an angel (But trying not to laugh) and Sam wearing a towel and looking mad.

"Dean, what did you do?" John asked warily.

"Do you know what he did first?" Dean replied. Sam gave a triumphant smile.

"I ruined all his mullet-rock tapes. Those shit things are rotting in hell!"

"Language, Sammy!" John said.

"Yes, sir." Sam said."But Dean's got all my clothes!"

"And underwear." Dean supplied obligingly.

"And underwear." Sam added. "Da-a-a-a-a-ad." Sam complained.

"Boys. I've said it before and I'll say it again. It's your problem and I'm not going to save you this time. It's up to you – WORK IT OUT." Dean was grinning like an idiot now.

"Ha HA Sammy, you heard the man, I get away with it!"

"TAPES." Sammy reminded him, which sure wiped the smile from Dean's face.

"Bitch" he muttered.

"I'm going to have to leave again tonight. You know I can't do some things during the day, boys."

"Don't leave me alone with him at night!" Both brothers asaid in unison. John raised an eyebrow.

"BEHAVE and if either of becomes a murderer tonight, so will I. So to avoid all the blood and death – " Sam rolled his eyes. He was still holding up his towel around his waist. Dean rolled HIS eyes. His spaghetti and Meatballs were going cold so he started to stuff his face again as John got up.

"You know the drill. I'm not going to say it again. Be back tomorrow. Bye, boys."

"Bye Dad." They waved and then whipped around to face one another.

"So."

"So."

"Wher are my clothes?"

"For me to know and you to find out."

"Dean. Where. Are. They?"

"Sam. Me. To. Know."

"Shit, man! You're hell dead. Dead, dead, dead!"

"If you kill me Dad kills you. Remember?"

"Yeah, yeah." Sam pulled a tub of ice-cream out the freezer.

"Where's mine?" Dean asked as Sam sat down with a bowl of chocolate ice-cream covered in chocolate sauce and chocolate chips. And whipped cream.

"Do you want one?" Sam asked innocently.

"What do you think?" Sam got up, smirking, and grabbed the ice-cream. He also grabbed basil leaves, garlic, curry powder, salt and pepper. And the chocolate sauce and chips. AND the shaving cream. Yummo! He started to make a sundae Dean wouldn't forget.

"Here you go. You owe me. BIG TIME. And I know just how you can pay that debt. Where are my clothes and you get this sundae." Dean's mouth was watering.

"In the oak tree. Underwear up flag pole. Wasn't me." Dean said eyeing his sundae-to-be. Sam rolled his eyes and dumped the sandae in front of Dean.

"Wait." He said suddenly. And grabbed the sundae back.

"What?" said Dean looking irritated. "I want my sundae!"

"I have to borrow some clothes…" Dean looked mad. Make Sammy happy or get a free sundae?

"No." he said with a sigh. No more sundae, either. Sam growled, but to Dean's surprise dumped his ice-cream in front of him anyway. If Dean's moth wasn't literally watering he'd noticed something was weird. He took a mouthful. The HUGEST mouthful EVER. His eyes filled with tears. He spat the mouthful BACK out. It was AWFUL! It was TERRIBLE! It was –

"SAMMY!" He yelled. Sammy laughed and skipped out the door in Dean's clothes."SAM! I SAID NOT MY CLOTHES! YOU LITTLE – "

"WHEN HAVE I EVER TO LISTENED TO WHAT YOU SAY?" Sam grinned. He ran out the front door and shinned up the tree watched by Dean's careful eye.

"THIS MEANS WAR!" Dean yelled.

"WE WERE ALREADY AT WAR!" Sam said. "REMEMBER?" Dean frowned in mock concentration.

"YEAH? DUDE, NO SHIT! THIS JUST MEANS YOU WILL HAVE THE SLOWEST PAINFULLEST DEATH EVER!" Dean pointed at Sam and drew a finger across his throat. Sammy just grinned as he tried to reach a shirt in one of the higher branches of the oak tree.

"PAINFULLEST INSN'T A WORD!"

"YOU ARE A BITCHY, WHINY NERD!" Dean yelled out the window. Sam gave Dean the finger as he leapt lightly from the tree.

"Bedtime!" Dean called to Sam sweetly a few hours later.

"You try anything – anything – I kick that ass of yours you think is so sweet."

"It is sweet." Dean said defensively. "And you know I can't kill you. Although the thought is tempting." He picked up the shotgun by the bedroom door and ran his hand along it.

"Dean. Truce? Seriously. This has gone far enough."

"Now who's scared of revenge? No. That was the only time I offered and YOU didn't take it. So you pay the consiquences, Sammy, brother."

"It's SAM for the freakin' last time!"

"Have a cry. Night. Sweet dreams…" Sam would never had gone to sleep if he'd have seen the evil grin that fluttered across Dean's face as he turned.

John walked through the door at six AM the next morning half-expecting to find the room in ruins. But instead he found a wakeful teenager and sleeping Sam.

"What did you do NOW, Dean? Why is it I always catch YOU?"

"Long story…you'll find out when my dear ten-year-old brother awakes. SAM!" He yelled, making John jump. There was a groan and then a yell from the bedroom.

"Aaaaaaargh! Owwwww! Shiiiiiiiiiiiit!"

"LANGUAGE, Sam!" John roared. He turned to Dean. "Seriously, son, what did you do?" A grinning Dean took his Dad to the bedroom door. Sam was sitting up in bed looking hell annoyed and slightly in pain.

"DEAN! DAD! He GLUED my fingers and TOES together! With SUPERGLUE!"

"Dibber-dobber Sindyyyy, you go to kindyyy!" sang Dean.

"Dean. I'm warning you. Got any nail-polish remover, boys?" John asked his sons.

"I sure don't, princess, do you?" Dean asked his father.

"Dean, I'd like you to please go down to the drugstore IMMEDIATELY and get your brother some nail-polish remover. NOW, Dean."

"Okay, Dad." Said Dean cheerfully.

"Make sure it's NOT Acetone-Free." said John. He could read Dean's thoughts as well as Dean could read Sam's.

"Yes, Dad."

"RUN there and don't be long. Go there and back. Go on!" He turned to his younger son. "Sammy…" Sam was crying with the effort to full his fingers apart. "Sammy…"

"Dad, Dean GLUED me TOGETHER!"

"Sam, it's not that bad. Calm down and stop TRYING to get them apart. Dean's gone to get some nail-polish remover."

"Yeah…" Sammy trailed off. "Does this mean I can get HIM back?"

"I'm not getting involved like last time. You've got to learn to sort stuff out yourself. You're both old enough. You're ten and he's fourteen."

"So I CAN get him back?"

"Sam, somewhere along the line one of you has to give in and let the other win."

"Won't be me!" said Sam much more cheerfully now. "Can we go to the park today? While you sleep? 'Cause I didn't get to last time but now the Texta's come off! Finally"

"Okay. You know the drill – "

"Be careful and all that, yeah." Dean walked in.

"Here, Dad." Sammy grinned at him. "We're going to the park later, ok?"

"Okay…" said Dean warily wondering just what Sammy had up his sleeve. He took his shoes off and went to make breakfast. Sammy used his now-free fingers to expertly go through Dean's bag and extract the superglue.

"Watch it, Sammy. Dean won't – "

"Stop at anything? I know. But nor will I." He said and put Superglue all ong the soles of Dean's shoes. Knowing he had only moments he grabbed his brother and dragged him to the door, toast and all.

"Whoa, you're a bit eager!" he said. "Hang on, let me put my shoes on." Sam was grinning like an idiot. Dean frowned and blocked the doorway.

"Wait. You tell me why you're an insane little bastard. What have you done?"

"I…I, uh…" He burst out laughing. "I glued you to your shoes!" Dean looked down and realized it was actually true.

"Ah, SHIT! You BASTARD!" He chased his brother right down to the park where they were both too exhausted to even play-wrestle.

"Dude? This has to stop somewhere, you know. Truce?" sam couldn't believe those words just came out of Dean's mouth.

"Truce…? I mean you said you wouldn't…I mean, ok."

"Shake on it…" Sam went to sahke his hand – BUZZZZ –

"OW!" yelped Sam.

"Joy Buzzer!" replied Dean joyfully. "Gotcha!" Sam growled.

"Is that the best you can do? Wow, you're losing your touch!"

"Oh, nah, there is SO much more where that came from!" Dean then remembered his feet were glued to his shoes and they had better get home quick and get them off before he might 'forget' that Sammy was his baby brother and kill him there and then.

Their Dad had to leave the next day to finish up the hunt. Then they'd leave this Gawler place forever. For once, he wouldn't be gone at night leaving his sons vunerable to eachother for all sorts of torture.

"You put soap on my tooth brush!" Yelled Sam that night spitting into the sink. "That could be poisonous!"

"It isn't. I may dislike you at times but I'm not about o poison you." Dean said. Sam snorted.

"Get out the bathroom. I want to take a shower some time this year, you know." Sam gave a secret smile, despite the HORRIBLE taste in his mouth. As the water came on he chuckled and hid himself behinfd a magazine.

Five minutes later the water turned off and he heard a sound that sounded like an animal dying. Then a yell of surpressed rage.

"Dean?" He asked. Not that he was concerned or anything, but… Dean came out the shower, glowering.

"Neon pink? Dude, NEON PINK?" Dean looked at the tube of permanent hair dye, in neon pink.

"I was gonna get green to bring out your eyes but then I saw the pink – SO totally your colour!" Sam giggled. "Pink just looks good on you!"

"You put HAIR DYE inmy SHAMPOO!" PINK hair dye!"

"Yep!...Gotcha!" Sam grinned. Dean growled. Then he walked over to Sam, who looking a little wary, slid to the floor.

Dean grabbed Sam by the shirt and pounded him onto the bed. Sam rolled off and stood up in a fighting stance. Dean grabbed the magazine and threw it at Sam. Sam grabbed the lamp and hurled it as his brother.

"For running my UNDERWEAR up the FLAGPOLE!"

"You found out about that?" asked Dean. "That was good…good!" He ducked as Sam threw a plate at Dean. "Shit!" Dean grabbed a pillow and whacked Sam. Sam rolled away and ino the kitchen. He waited for Dean who came in carrying a floor lamp as a weapon. Sam threw all the leftover Sapghetti bolognaise at him. Dean wiped it out of his face and pink hair and grabbed the mouldy milk. Splah! Sam threw up at the smell of the off milk. In return, he clocked Dean with the bolognaise bowl which shattered on contact with Dean's head. He swayed and fell into the table which brock. Sam looked over to see if he was okay and got clobbered with a table leg. Dean rolled off the table wreckage and went to see if Sam was okay. But he pulled Dean to the ground and they rolled over and over and over into –

"Boys?" John asked.

"Uh, hi Dad!" Sam said.

"BOYS!" thundered John.

"Hi Dad." said Dean quietly, from at his Dad's feet.

"I try to sleep for what, an hour and a half and I wake up to this!"

"Uh, Sam died my hair Pink…"

"DEAN! WHAT THE HELL! THERE IS FOOD – AND LAMPS – AND TABLE BITS – AND ALL YOUR BELONGINGS STREWN EVERYWHERE!"

"Yeah, Dean he – "

"I DON"T WANT EXCUSES!" John roared. "YOU LET IT GET WAY TOO FAR THIS TIME! YOU COULD'VE GOTTEN HURT!"

"It all started with – "

"Okay. You need to clean this up NOW. You need to say sorry, you need to make up. YOU are going to be grounded for a month – " he pointed at Dean – "and YOU are going to give up all your allowance for a month!" This was directed at Sam.

"WHAT!" yelled the boys together.

"AND now you are going to apologise and hug and call a truce. That is an ORDER. Okay?"

"You. Are. Not. Serious." Said Dean. "No way."

"DEAN – YOU WILL BE GROUNDED FOR A - "

"Okay, I'll do it. Sammy?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry Dean for annoying you and killing your tape collection and making you eat shaving cream and glueing your feet in your shoes and dying your hair neon pink and throwing a plate, a magazine and some spaghetti bolognaise at you AND for smashing the bowl over your head. Truce?"

"Truce. Hey the bowl actually hur, you know, that was good!"

"Yeah I know!"

"And I'M sorry for teasing you and drawing on you in permanent texta and chucking all your clothes out the window and running your underwear up the flagpole with skid marks on it and glueing your fingers and toes together and putting soap on your toothbrush and getting with a joy buzzer and throwing a magazine, lamp and pillow at you and making you throw up cause I chucked mouldy milk at you and hitting you with a table leg AND…" He gave a sudden evil, evil grin.

"What, Dean?" asked John and Sam a little nervously.

"For poutting Laxotive in your food." He burst into hilarious peals of laughter as Sam ran to the toilet. He burst into even more laughter as his dad looked at him rolling on the floor with tears streaming down his face. NO ONE beats Dean Winchester at Practical Jokes. NO ONE!

Best part was, they'd already said truce and made up…As Sam walked into the room all Dean can choke out is –

"I win."


End file.
